Magical Me: the Memoirs of Gilderoy Lockhart
by the Lovely Lucinda
Summary: In this classic story of adventure, glamour, and fame, you will meet the man behind the smile. In this, his eighth publication, Gilderoy Lockhart’s magnificence will become real to you, his adoring fan... Currently on permenant hiatus
1. Prologue and Introduction

A/N: This story popped into my head one day out of the blue when I was doing homework. Gilderoy Lockhart is one of the most bigheaded, vain characters in the whole Harry Potter series, and in real life, I can't stand vain or egotistical people. In the world of fiction, however, the self-centered characters are often the most hilarious. I just wanted to make it clear, though, that if Lockhart was a real person, I would despise him. He's not real, however, so I adore his narcissistic manner. This first chapter will be quite short, but that's just because I am, hopefully, writing the entire conceited tome, Magical Me, and I wanted to get the Preface and Introduction to the book out before I lost the story idea. I'm quite excited about this story, and I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: Gilderoy Lockhart, and his egomaniacal personality belong entirely to J.K. Rowling. He's too hilariously self-obsessed for me to think up on my own. :)

This book is dedicated to my biggest fan: Me! Great job, old fellow! You're a handsome, enchanting devil---and don't you forget it!

Preface:

When I first met Gilderoy, several years ago, he was seven years old, the cutest little boy with bright blond hair, and large blue eyes. As a grown witch it's amusing to look back and remember that little tike, who was so cunning, and attractive, and to compare him with the cunning and attractive wizard whom he has become (he's come so far!). His endless deeds of greatness and bravery have made him a beloved figure around the world. Although many great wizards and witches achieved greatness in their later years, Gilderoy's story has been one of lifelong success.

This witty remembrance of his historic life will bring new and exciting insight to the memorable life which everyone's favorite wizard has lived. From his early years as a member of the International Junior Dueling club, to his entertaining exploits at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to his heartwarming years as a tamer of disabled pixies, Gilderoy has lived a life full of excitement, wonder, and magic. In this classic story of adventure, glamour, and fame, you will meet the man behind the smile. In this, his eighth publication, Gilderoy Lockhart's magnificence will become real to you, his adoring fan. You will laugh, cry, weep, and cheer, as you read this marvelous story. I know I did. And always remember to wash your hair with Armenian Barb's Lilac Sparkle Shampoo. As Gilderoy says, "You'll never know when that fresh-scented smell will ward off an ogre or two!" Cheers!

-- Celestina Warbeck

Yorkshire, July 7th

Introduction:

"You're my hero!"

"Your magnificent deeds are an inspiration to all of us!"

"Will you marry me?"

"Can I have your autograph?"

"I've named all fourteen of my children after you!"

As the most famous wizard in most of the civilized world (and a great amount of the uncivilized world as well), I've grown used to this admiration over the years. The constant mobbing by fans, the endless awards for my fabulousness, the brave deeds... It can be hard to keep up with the endless flood of fan letters! Why the other day I was forced to sacrifice my best periwinkle dressing gown when a large ink stain from a letter I was writing to an adoring fan, Doris Crockford of London, caused my outfit to be miserably ruined! And yet, I soldiered. on! For whenever one of my fans needs me, I am there, ready to face all dangers to be the shining star in their unexceptional life! But of course, you already knew that, as do all of my faithful fans. And truly, why would you pay sixteen galleons for this if you weren't already one of my many devoted fans? And of course, everyone is a devoted fan of myself! If I may be so modest as to suggest it, even I am often astonished by the extraordinary life which I have lived! And really, that is why I am writing this enticing little story: to let you, my adoring fans, know exactly what it was like to, shall we say, "grow up Gilderoy!"


	2. Humble Beginnings

**Disclaimer: **Still delightfully not mine, even though it's been forever and a half since I posted... **A/N: **Ahh! Please forgive me! I've been busy! At least I've finally updated now, right? Oh, please, for the love of all things Harry Pottery just drop the chain-saws and read already!

**Chapter One: Humble Beginnings**

I was born in the back streets of London to a miserable and poor, single witch whose name I have never learned. She died a few days after I was born, and the thought of her ill-timed death still brings a tear to my mind even so many years later. And thanks to extensive years of therapy, I have forgiven her for dying instead of staying alive for caring for her perfect, needy, and wonderful offspring.

For the first three years of my life I was a poor and wretched street urchin. My first steps were taken next to a large rat-infested dumpster. My first words were spoken to the seller of day old cheese: "Please sir, I want some more." Even at a young and tender age I tried to be unfailingly polite, for I was certain that blue, pure blood ran in my veins. Despite my adorable good looks which were spoiled by lack of proper nutrition, my over-powering sense of justice often left me hungry as I bravely and warm-heartedly gave the meager scraps of stale bread that I found to other, younger children. Even at the age of two and a half, my kind philanthropic nature showed through in favor of miserable wretches who had the misfortune to not be me. The kindness of my heart sustained me through the cold of sleeping under ragged newspapers and the teasing of older, tough, cruel beggars.

But my stoic misery was not to last forever. On the eve of my fourth birthday as I was warding off a pack of rabid pigeons from a group of defenseless cripples who were dying of the last stages of consumption and the Bubonic Plague, Marissa and Ricardo Lockhart, two prominent and wealthy magicians spotted my brave, but ragged attempt to protect innocent children from the cruel pecking of angry winged rats.

I collapsed from exhaustion from my weary battle against the pigeons into the arms of the kind Lockharts, but not before I managed to send a last weak kick at a particularly vicious bird that tried to undo my homemade perm. Touched by my pathetic existence and glorious good looks, they pulled me literally out of the gutter and adopted me. I knew that they would kind and loving parents when they tossed a tuppence to the other gutter children as a reward for not mucking up their newly-cleaned robes too much.

My new life was one of simplicity and unpretentious kindness. Every morning I would arise to be greeted by my favorite breakfast of jelly donuts and poached Nigerian quail eggs. As an only child my parents were worried that I would feel lonely and unappreciated, so they always stood on either side of king-sized bed, stroking my curly blond hair as I leaned against my satin pillows, being hand fed my breakfast by three house elves. My good manners that I had developed as a beggar served me well as a member of the upper-class, and I was always able to thank the house elves politely for my food, before sending them to polish my toenails, and shine my door knobs.

After breakfast most days I would run to my large garden where I studied vigorously with my fourteen private tutors. Even as a young child I was always an exceptional student, showing an early aptitude for difficult and confusing subjects such as quantum physics and theoretical mathematics. I also won several awards for my work in Muggle-Wizard Interaction Methods, and was honored at the age of eight by the Minister of Magic with the "Merlin Award for Gifted Wizards" for successfully creating a broom that could reach Jupiter.

That particular broom I had merely doodled on a linen napkin while having my head massaged and conditioned one evening. Although I was thrilled to be the recipient of such a prestigious honor, I still found enough class to ask for an additional 300 hundred Galleons to be included in the prize money to donate to my favorite charity "Gilderoy's Home For Neglected, But Delightfully Expensive And Trendy Dress Robes." As was expected, the ministry was happy to support my philanthropy, and even sent a press-release on the awards ceremony to the Daily Prophet. That was the beginning of my fame in the printed world, though I am glad to say that today I am known more for my dashing good looks and daring feats of bravery than for my genius intelligence. As my father once told me, "Immodesty is the sin of the experienced and the invalid." Although I never truly understood the point or meaning of that particular of saying, I always remembered it as I celebrated my numerous achievements in the academic world.

But my childhood was not all filled with scholarly work. I spent many happy years flying my trusty Silver Arrow over my adopted parents thirty acre country estate. My happiest memories are of racing over our babbling silver creek and honing my innate Seeker skills by chasing hummingbirds through daisy filled meadows.

My flying skills served me well on a fateful day when a Common Welsh Green Dragon escaped from a nearby sanctuary.

I was barely seven years old, but will never forget that day. I was circling high above the ground trying to see how long I could hold my breath before I fell off my broom (an entertaining game to be sure. My record is 234 seconds.), when I heard screams and cries issuing from the village beneath me.

Looking down on the tiny town of Squiddle-Upon-Rye I was shocked and more than a little disturbed to see huge columns of black smoke billowing up from the hamlet's many thatched roofs. Clearly something was amiss.

With little regard for my personal safety, I sped down to earth in a spiral dive. I landed at the feet of an enormous dragon. It's gaping, sharp-fanged jaws were descending ever closer to an ancient witch who was shaking in senile fear. Although I will admit I myself was shaking in my handmade, embossed flying boots, my young, yet superior mind quickly concocted a brilliant strategy. Grasping the dragon by its large, spiny tail I climbed quickly up its towering back. My tiny frame diverted its attention from the helpless citizen it had been about to turn into a lovely soufflé for its mid-morning snack. Ignoring the danger and the screams of fear for my safety that were issuing from the mouths of the villagers gathered around, I pulled myself onto the dragon's neck and carefully pulled out a small blue bottle. My mother had given it me only yesterday for "vexing, social emergencies." Pulling the cork out with my perfect set of well-developed teeth, I poured the entire flask of "Shirley's All-Purpose Lavender-Flavored Mouthwash," into the beasts hideous mouth.

With a ferocious roar of anger and fear at the chemical cleaner it had swallowed, the beast dropped me to the ground and flew away, never to terrorize defenseless villagers again.

The many bruises and scrapes I suffered from the horrible and shocking fall, were as I told the grateful mayor of Squiddle, "a small price to pay for the safety and well being of the common magical community." I never spoke truer words, and have devoted my life to try embodying that standard of bravery that I set as seven year old.

"Gilderoy," my father told me after this episode, and after I executed other feats of daring, skill and bravery, such as when I rescued another poor defenseless kitten from a tree or dove through the air on my broom to catch a Snitch that had been dropped three seconds earlier four miles away. "Gilderoy, my boy. You truly are destined for greatness. With the talent, charm, and overall generosity that you possess, the world will be a better place."

Always the modest and bashful child, each time my beloved dad complemented me, I would duck my head and gratefully thank my father in fluent Japanese. That never failed to make him laugh, and even today I am known for my sparkling wit and humor.

While my father tutored my mind and helped me to grow into the engaging man that I am today, my mother was always there to pass on the wisdom that she herself had gained from twenty-three years of being a successful model of wizarding robes and clothes.

Under her gentle guidance I learned the subtle art of matching robes to my stunning eyes and complexion, and how to draw attention with a well-placed accessory. Without her tutoring I might never have won Witch Weekly's "Most Charming Smile" award five times now! My mother gave me the knowledge and panache that saved me from becoming a dowdy, frumpy backwards warlock full of intelligence but lacking in any dress fashion whatsoever. Unfortunately many of the husbands of my devoted fans fall into that category, but that is why I am in the process of developing my own line of male beauty products called "Essence of Gilderoy." But I won't try to market my hair-care, after shave, and wig-cleaning products before they, or even this book is released. I'll do plenty of that on my thirty-nation book tour. Which of course every dedicated member of the Gilderoy Lockhart fan club already has tickets to...

But, I digress. My point is that thanks to the generosity of my beloved parents, combined with my own dashing, daring, and dream-boat eyes (I call these components of my charm the "3 Deadly Ds"), I lived in a childhood that was remarkably historic and uncommon. And it was just the beginning of a life of excitement and fame.

For soon I was eleven, which meant that I was headed for a place where I would become renowned and beloved of all. A place where my charm, wit, good looks, and exceptional Quidditch skills became legandary.

Hogwarts...

**A/N: **And that's the end of chapter one! What do you think of his story so far? Cheesy is it not? Although I haven't worked on this in months, I'm truly enjoying writing about my wonderful, bloated-ego pal, Gilderoy. Since I have a few days of relative quiet I'll try to have chapter two out soon... Thanks for being so patient in waiting for this long!

Love y'all,

Lucinda


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